Page 30 of Christmas in Quincy (The Edens 0.50)

Squeezing through the doors, I raced for the room, fumbling with the key card to get inside. Then I dropped my purse and shopping haul, tearing off my coat as I sprinted for the closet and my empty suitcase. The drawers were empty in a flash. My toiletries were thrown into their travel bag. I was sitting on the case, sandwiching it closed to get the zipper shut, when the room door opened and Austin stepped inside, carrying a plastic sack.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Packing. If we leave now and drive to Missoula, we can get on the last flight—”

“Cleo, no.”

“What do you mean, no? We need to hurry.” I snapped my fingers and pointed to my suitcase. “Would you help me zip this, please?”

Austin shook his head. “I’ve already booked my flight for the day after Christmas to match yours. We’re staying.”

“But—”

“We’re staying. It’s too late.”

“It’s not too late.” My shoulders fell. “I don’t want you to have to stay here and spend Christmas with someone you don’t even like.”

He tossed his plastic sack aside and crossed the room. “I like you.”

Oh, how I wished that were true. “It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend.”

“I like you, Cleo.” He stepped even closer, his hands coming to my shoulders.

My heart stopped. Actually stopped. Austin didn’t touch me. Ever. Unless it was by mistake. But the weight of his wide hands and the warmth of his palms seeped through my sweater and into my skin.

“We’ll stay.”

I barely registered his words. He smelled so good, like spicy cologne and fresh air and a scent that was wholly Austin. Why did he have to smell so good? I resisted the urge to drop my nose into his chest and take a long pull. “Are you sure?”

There I was, double-checking again.

Austin didn’t answer.

Except instead of annoyance on his face, he wore a different expression, one I couldn’t make sense of. His forehead was furrowed, almost like he was in pain. His lips were pursed in a thin line. But his eyes. They told a completely different story. They were intense and dark, the brown a deeper shade than normal and utterly mesmerizing.

Maybe he didn’t like me.

Or maybe . . .

Before I could indulge in the fantasy that he might like me, just a little, Austin tore his hands away from my shoulders, turned to swipe up the plastic bag from the floor and strode into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and flipping the lock.

Two seconds later, the sound of the shower’s spray drifted into the room.

I flopped off my suitcase and onto the bed, groaning to the ceiling.

Why couldn’t we be friends? Life would be easier if we were friends. Why couldn’t I get rid of this stupid crush?

“I want to go home,” I grumbled. Montana had been a huge mistake.

But I was here. Austin was resigned to the idea of staying and as every minute passed, our chances of getting home to LA by Christmas dwindled.

It was time to make the best of an awkward situation. I shoved myself up off the bed and quickly unpacked my suitcase. Then as the shower turned off, I scribbled a note to Austin that I’d gone to the lobby. He was naked on the other side of the bathroom door. There was no way I’d be able to hide the blush in my cheeks when he came out.

So I slipped from the room and went to the lobby. There was a new clerk at the desk when I approached. “Hello. I was just wondering if I could reserve a place in the dining room for dinner tonight.”

“Of course.” The clerk smiled and took down my reservation.

“Thanks.”